


May Tomorrow Never Come

by AnneValkyria



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneValkyria/pseuds/AnneValkyria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entry 2. Instead of staying at the Grounder’s village Raven decided to chance the weather. Caught in a blizzard she’s rescued by the last person she’d expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May Tomorrow Never Come

**Prompt:** Blizzard

**Title:** May tomorrow never come

**Beta:** hannah_perry85

**Pairing:** Raven R/J. Murphy

**Rating:** T

**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own these characters

**A/N: My second entry for the Better In Texas Winter Wonderland contest**

* * *

 

Raven had just finished installing the transmitter onto the antenna when the first flurries fell from the sky. “Please work, please work” she chanted while climbing down the rickety construction.

A sudden gust of air caused the former guard tower to rock ominously, and by the time her feet touched the ground her knees wobbled so heavily she could barely stand. With her shoulders squared and her head held high, she walked into Command Central, intent on ignoring the stares burning into her back.

Raven plugged in the cord and breathed a sigh of relief when she flipped the switch and the control panel hummed and lit up. But, it was neither the time nor the place to celebrate and there was still work to be done. Standing a little to the side so as not to block the view for anyone that wanted a look, her fingers were sure and steady as she moved the knobs to adjust the settings and tune in to the right frequency. She pressed down the button on the panel and spoke into the microphone. “Tondc to Ground Station, come in Ground Station. Do you read me?”

The speaker crackled, distorting the sound coming from the other end, but she would have recognized Monty’s voice anywhere. “You did it, Raven,” he cheered, as if there was ever any doubt. “We’ll have to celebrate as soon as you get back tomorrow.”

A furrow appeared between her brows, “Tomorrow? What do you mean tomorrow? I’m heading back as soon as we’re done here.”

“You can’t!” his concern was clear even through the bad reception. Monty was the most calm and collected person she had ever met. Nothing ever seemed to affect him, so when he worried it was true cause for alarm. “There’s a storm coming, you’ll never make it.”

Raven screwed her eyes shut, “Hang on.” She walked stiffly to the door and counted to ten before pushing the it open, holding on to the hope that he was exaggerating. But of course he wasn’t.

The temperature had dropped significantly in the time she had been inside. In thirty short minutes the weather had taken a drastic turn for the worse; the sky had darkened, the wind had doubled in force and the snow was coming down in sheets.

She returned to the radio in a rush and grabbed the microphone. “Hello? Monty? Are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” the static had gotten worse and Raven could barely make out his words.

“I’ll make it if I leave right away,” she insisted with her usual stubbornness. She tightened her high ponytail and pulled her scarf to cover her mahogany hair and most of her face, leaving only her eyes visible. “It’ll probably take me a little longer than usual, but I can use the light on the signal tower to navigate.”

“Wait”” Monty shouted. “It’s too dangerous.” Raven didn’t answer, she merely released the call button and grabbed her pack.

The offers to spend the night were halfhearted at best, as was her politeness when she turned them down.

Communication was important, especially during the winter, and Raven was the only one who could set it up, or else she wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the village.

The truce didn’t change anything; she still didn’t trust that it would stop Grounders from trying to kill her in her sleep. After all, it wouldn’t stop _her_. She stood a better chance braving the elements.

By the time she reached the borders of Tondc the snow reached above her ankles. It kept creeping in between the buckles of her leg brace, making it more difficult to walk.

Doubled over, and with her shoulders pulled up to her ears against the headwind she managed to trudge forward for about half an hour before the mechanical joint short circuited and she couldn’t bend her knee anymore.

By using her hip to swing her left leg she pushed ahead through the blizzard while trying to keep one teary eye on the light above the camp.

The clothes she wore weren’t made to stand the weather, and it hadn’t taken much for them to become soaked through. Her fingers and toes were numb from the cold and her back ached. Almost blinded by the precipitation she started to worry about all the dangers she couldn’t see.

She could fall into ditches or holes, over roots or thick undergrowth, be attacked by wild and hungry animals. Then there were traps the Grounders used for hunting and protection? By making the wrong move she could be impaled or worse, strung up in a tree somewhere.

If she could just endure a little while longer she would be back at Camp Jaha, where she could get a hot bath, dry clothes and something to eat. Just a little… while… longer. She pushed through the snow, trying to pick up her pace as much as possible.

When Raven stumbled into a copse of trees she stopped to catch her breath. Feeling weak in the knees and disjointed she supported herself against a tall pine and squinted in the direction she expected to see the signal tower, to make sure she was still on the right course.

When she didn’t see the bright yellow light she figured she was facing the wrong way and turned her head. Panic didn’t set in until she had spun around on the spot twice and still couldn’t find it. She tried searching for any recognizable landmarks, but with a sinking feeling she realized she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her.

It didn’t take long for the realization to kick in: She was lost.

 

 

***

 

 

“Raven!” Monty called her name repeatedly into the headset, but there was no answer. “Calm down, Monty,” he plucked a piece from the little tin he kept in his pocket, and put it in his mouth, “This is not the time to panic.” In a move so sudden he almost frightened himself, he jumped to his feet and looked wildly around the communication center. “Who am I kidding, this is the perfect time to panic.”

He stumbled over his feet and would have fallen out through the tent flap if Murphy hadn’t arrived at that exact moment, bringing with him icy gusts and flurries of snow.

Strong fingers wrapped around his biceps to steady him. “Woah, watch where you’re going.” Murphy grunted, his tone an odd combination of accusing and defensive as usual.

Monty was taller than the other boy’s 5’9” but despite this he got the impression that he had to look up at him. What Murphy lacked in height he more than made up for in other attributes.

He had been pardoned twice, but was still judged solely for his crimes. He had killed two of their own people as revenge for what they had done to him, but the only one who had taken fewer lives was Monty himself, who only had one kill by his own hand.

Murphy brushed off the snow from his hair and jacketand regardedthe jittery junior engineer through heavy lidded blueeyes with a frown. “What’s going on with you? Have you dippedinto your stash of jobi nuts again?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Monty chewed absentmindedly on the piece of plastic with a frown on his face. “Wait… What are _you_ doing here?”

Murphy glanced to the side and shrugged. “Heard anything from Raven yet?” He tried to act casual, but by answering the question with a question he gave away more than he intended.

However, luck was on his side, because hearing her name sparked another bout of panic in Monty. Raven was out there, or would be in a matter of minutes, she was alone and he still hadn’t come up with an idea to help her. He crushed the plastic between his grinding teeth. He clearly couldn’t handle this on his own, he needed… “A search party!” he blurted and spat out the chewed up mess. It landed in front of Murphy’s feet.

“What the hell?” Murphy snapped, glaring with both surprise and anger. “What is wrong with you? And what…” he toed the black chunk with his boot “…is _that_?”

“Huh?” confused Monty followed the movement of Murphy’s foot. “ _Oh_ , that,” He showed Murphy the tin container. “It’s plastic. I took it from some split cables. Want one?”

Murphy scrunched his nose in disgust. “No, I think I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” Monty chose another piece of plastic and put it in his mouth. “Chewing helps me think.”

“Whatever,” Murphy rolled his eyes. “What did you mean by ‘search party’? And you still haven’t told me if Raven’s been in contact.”

“That’s who the search party is for,” Monty explained impatiently. Now that he had come up with a solution he wanted to put the plan in motion. “Raven didn’t want to stay behind at Tondc… and there’s a storm brewing. If it had been anyone else…” Monty didn’t finish the sentence, he didn’t have to, Murphy heard what was left unsaid. If it had been anyone else they wouldn’t have been as worried, but when it was someone with only one fully operating leg… The risks were too great.

“That’s your plan? A search party?” Murphy gave Monty a condescending look that spoke volumes.  “She’s going to love that.” Of the adjectives he would choose to describe Raven, ‘proud’ would be at the top of the list. She wouldn’t want anyone dropping what they were doing to chase after her. The only one allowed to save Raven was Raven herself.

“Well, we have to do something,” Monty insisted. “What else is there?”

“I could go,” Murphy suggested before he could stop himself.

Their eyes widened and their mouths dropped open. It was impossible to tell which of the boys was most surprised by his offer.

“You would do that?” Monty asked skeptically. “Why? What’s in it for you?”

Murphy shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. Maybe this will keep her from trying to have me killed for a while. A respite would be nice, at least until after the holidays.”

Monty nodded and started for the opening again. “Unlike what you may think; two people lost is _not_ better than one. Every member of the Arc has his or her own value, although you seem to be pretty worthless.” Monty didn’t insult Murphy on purpose, he was merely stating the facts. The only skill Murphy seemed to possess was the ability to piss everyone off. Not that that wasn’t an impressive skill in itself, but it was useless in normal, day to day life.

A small, resigned smile played on Murphy’s lips, “Right. Which means if I go we would still only be out one member. After all, I’m not worth anything to anyone. But Raven… She’s worth everything.” Monty raised an eyebrow at this. “What? No! I mean her _skills_. What she can do, you know with her hands...No, not like that…” Murphy groaned quietly. “I just meant that she’s important… No, that’s not…” he cursed under his breath and gave up trying to explain. “We’re wasting time here. Can I go, or not?”

Asking for permission was so uncharacteristic of Murphy that Monty could do nothing but stare at him for several seconds. “Okay, you can go,” he finally agreed.

Fifteen minutes later Murphy was ready to go.

Dressed in an overall remade from the remains of an old spacesuit and a pack filled with food, drinks, clothes, a sleeping bag, medicine, bandages and a pop up tent, just big enough for two, Murphy left through what had been dubbed as ‘Raven’s Gate’. The part of the electrical fence that wasn’t connected to the grid.

“I’m outside,” he mumbled into the walkie-talkie Monty had insisted he take with him. He refused to let Murphy leave the camp without some way to communicate. If Raven was hurt, or worse Monty wanted to know as soon as possible so he could alert the right people.

“Alright,” Monty came through clearly this close to the camp. “Walk straight towards Tondc, and try to keep to the road, because she will.” Monty paused, going over the mental checklist one more time.  “Good luck and I hope you don’t die.”

The patrols followed a strict schedule, and Murphy knew it by heart. All he had to do was wait for the guard on fence duty to pass, count to fifteen, and he would have a twenty second window to make it to the treeline without being detected. There was nothing to it, but still Murphy couldn’t help the small sigh of relief as he watched from the safety behind a fir as Sgt. Miller trampled a path through the falling snow, huddled underneath a threadbare blanket. They didn’t have the proper clothes to protect from the dead of winter, after all, there hadn’t been any seasonal changes in space.

Protected from the cold in the borrowed suit, a ratty scarf and a beanie pulled down over his ears Murphy checked the straps on his pack and hoped it would hold for the extra weight, he headed down the road towards Tondc. The ‘road’ was barely more than a path, sparsely cleared by human hands, but it filled its purpose. The trees grew close in some places and could be a nightmare to navigate through.

The first half hour went quickly. He had the wind in his back, which kept the worse of the snow out of his face and his vision clear. But as the first hour was upon him, so was the blizzard. Walking into the heart of the storm he began to truly worry. He respected few and trusted even less. The last time he dared trust anyone had been Bellamy, and that almost got him hung. Murphy knew he was feared and hated by most, and although he was sure he had Raven’s hate, one thing he didn’t have was her fear. She earned his respect more than once, and there was an underlying trust there as well. He trusted that she hated him, and he respected that.

He knew why she had decided against seeking shelter in Tondc, if anyone would understand it was him. He hated the Grounder’s as much as she did, but for a different reason, after all, **he** still had the scars to show for it.

His legs felt heavier and heavier and his back ached from the added weight. He was exhausted and needed to rest, to sit down for just a while. But he wasn’t stupid. If he sat down he would never get up again, and that would be it for both him and Raven.

It was almost a complete whiteout; he couldn’t see what lay up ahead or what he had left behind. Any landmarks he managed to make out was barely recognizable and his chances of ever finding Raven were quickly fading.

Regret bloomed inside his chest for the things he’d done, and the things he hadn’t. He was about to give up and admit defeat when a tree with a strange shade of red broke through the white landscape. He knew that color everywhere. Raven.

 

***

 

Ten, maybe twenty minutes had passed since she lost visual of the signal tower when the dark shadows took on a familiar shape. First she saw nothing but snow, then all of a sudden he was there; the last person she wanted to see. “What are you doing here, Murphy?” she croaked. Her voice was soft and whispery, but he heard every word.

“Saving your ungrateful ass,” His own voice sounded as harsh as his words, but that was merely to hide the foreign emotion that came out of nowhere.  She was alive.

When he got closer Murphy noticed that while her brown eyes lacked their usual fire, he could still see a spark in their depth. There was still fight in her.

Raven hated being looked at as weak, so when she saw what she perceived as pity in Murphy’s eyes she used the tree to straighten herself and sneered at him. “Since when do I need someone to save me?”

“Since you got shot and ended up with nerve damage that killed almost all mobility from your left knee to your toes… Sorry about that by the way,” he mocked with false sympathy.

“Arghh,” Raven growled and threw herself at him.

Her legs were numb and practically useless, Murphy had to catch her when both of her knees gave out, to keep her from falling face first into the snow. It didn’t matter though; she had given him exactly the reaction he wanted. There was still much to do before he could get her warm and anger was a simple way to raise her body heat in the interim.

He didn’t want to fight her, because even weak she was probably stronger than him, so he took the coward's way out; dropped her on her behind and leaving her there.

He knew Raven well enough to know she would follow, if nothing else to make sure he didn’t have the last word.

Luck was still on their side and after walking less than thirty feet to the east he stepped into a bare area the shape of a circle. The surrounded trees seemed to offer some protection from the strong winds and he quickly got to work digging out a spot big enough for the tent.

Murphy heard Raven’s shouted expletives long before she limped into the clearing, again reacting exactly the way he wanted her to.

By the time she reached him he had set up the tent and gestured for her to enter first. “After you.”

“Dick,” she muttered accompanied by a string of curses that could make a pirate blush.

He chuckled and crawled in after her, making sure to close the flap behind him.

The first thing he did was turn on the lanterns he brought with him, the next was to contact Monty, who by then had to be worried sick.

“Finally,” he scolded. “How is she?”

Raven didn’t appreciate them talking about her as if she wasn’t there. “Hey, I’m sitting right here.”

“She looks like shit,” Murphy didn’t just say that to make her mad. Raven looked terrible. Her olive skin which constantly appeared to glow with an inner light was now ashen and covered with goosebumps, her soft looking, pink lips were blue and trembled with the force of her chattering teeth.

“Body heat,” Monty reminded Murphy of their earlier conversation. “Share yours with her, it’s the best way to warm her.”

Most of their conversation was lost on Raven. By then she shook violently and she whimpered from the pain as her frozen form twitched on the tent floor.

“Bye, Monty,” Murphy didn’t bother being polite. Time for talking was over, Raven needed him.

He retrieved the sleeping bag, which actually was actually two comforters sewn together on one side and with a zipper on the other and laid it out between them. He hesitated for a heartbeat before he reached for her zipper, but got the rest of her clothes off in quick, and impersonal movements, all the while ignoring her muttered objections. He helped her into the sleeping bag, and placed the pack within reach before making fast work of his own clothes.

“Wh…at the…he-ell…Mu-uhr-phy?” Raven stuttered when he crawled down beside her, dressed in only a pair of shorts.

“Shut up,” he pulled her tightly against his chest. “We can argue later, but first I need to get you warm.” A shudder ran through him. Despite the cold he couldn’t keep his body from reacting to the almost naked girl in his arms.

The silence stretched out between them as they lay close together, listening to each other breathe. His chin rested on top of her head and her cheek over his heart. Raven’s temperature slowly returned to normal, but Murphy kept his arms wrapped around her even after she stopped shivering. The storm continued outside of the tent, but the two teenagers barely noticed.

Murphy didn’t want to break the peaceful silence by opening his mouth, but he needed to get her something to eat. Reluctantly he pulled away from her, “Are you hungry?” he murmured, his back turned to her as he rifled through the pack.

The air was thick with tension and the silence was no longer comfortable. She drank the plantain water and soup, carefully avoiding his gaze. Not even when she was full and offered him what was left of the meal did she meet his eyes.

When Murphy placed the empty thermos and bottle back in the pack he remembered the clothes he had brought for her. He wondered why he hadn’t given them to her yet, but also why she hadn’t asked for anything to wear. Even the space suit should have been better than nothing at all. He collected the pile into his hand, gave it a thoughtful squeeze and pushed it to the bottom of the pack. If she asked he would give it to her in a heartbeat, but as long as she didn’t… He tried to defend his actions, but in reality he preferred her in her underwear. Not because the amount of skin she showed. As he saw it, when he removed her soaked clothes he had at the same time removed some of the walls she hid behind. That notion vanished as soon as he handed her the moonshine.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she glared accusingly.

“What? No!” Murphy defended himself adamantly, wishing for the return of the peace from the last hour. “I just tried to do something nice… You know what,” he shook his head with frustration, “just forget it.”

She chuckled darkly and unscrewed the cap. “Like John Murphy would know how to be nice.”

“Screw you, Raven,” he grabbed the bottle out of her hands and swallowed a mouthful. “Next time I won’t even bother,” he rasped, his throat on fire from the homemade alcohol.

“But why you?” she asked and took a sip. “Why not Monty, or Bellamy, or anyone else but you?”

“Right, anyone would have been better than me,” she didn’t see the hurt flash in his eyes. “I was there when you radioed in, and we needed someone to man the radio. As for Bellamy… He’s part of the guard now, and we figured you didn’t want a search party.”

“Humph,” she didn’t want to admit that he was right and took another sip and enjoyed the warmth spreading throughout her body. She knew she was behaving like an ungrateful brat, but she couldn’t help it. She had spent the last two months ignoring him and hadn’t planned on ever changing that, it was better than the alternative. She forced those thoughts away, she didn’t want to think about it. It hurt too much.

Minutes passed with the howling wind as the only noise. They passed the bottle between each other, both of them feeling the effect of the alcohol.

“You shot me,” her tongue felt a little too big and the words came out sounding slurred.

Murphy glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You tried to trade me for your spacewalker boyfriend…” he couldn’t help but remind her, the memory of her deceit still fresh, “by the way how did that work out for you?” It was a low blow. Especially that day of all days. It was December 23rd, two months since Finn’s death.

Murphy slid down onto his back and stared at the tent ceiling. “Sorry.” She always brought out the best and the worst in him.

Raven looked down at him from her seated position. He wasn’t handsome by normal standards. His nose was a little too big and his lips a little too full, almost as if he constantly pouted. But there was something about him that she couldn’t quite ignore. His dark brown hair was brushed away from his forehead, and his blue eyes dark with the same sorrow that always seemed present. The pang of guilt was both familiar and unwelcome. She couldn’t forgive him. She wouldn’t. He could have stopped Finn, but he didn’t. “Go float yourself, Murphy,” she spat and gulped down the rest of the moonshine.

He didn’t say anything to his defense. What was there to say? He had been in the village with Finn. He had watched him gun down eighteen innocent people, elders and children mostly. He had tried to get him to stop, but had he tried hard enough? He continued to stare at the ceiling, not saying a word.

“I miss him,” Raven said in a small voice. Her heart ached for the boy who made sure to remember her birthday and always shared his ration.

“I know,” Murphy whispered.

“He was more than a boyfriend, more than a friend,” she sounded strangled, as if the words were forced out of her. “He was family.” She had known him all her life, and she felt empty without him. Their relationship had ended before he died, but their friendship would have lasted forever.

“I know.” He sighed and rolled on to his side to look at her.

When Raven laid down she was close enough for her shoulder to nearly touch him. “I’m tired.” A single tear escaped her closed lids. It slid along the apple of her cheek to drop down onto the sleeping bag. “I just want a few hours where I don’t have to think.”

Murphy reached out with his arm to pull her close. Her skin felt flushed, and he knew it was from the aftereffects of the alcohol. The false warmth would wear off long before morning and if they wanted to survive the night they needed each other, and even then it was no guarantee.

“I don’t want you behind me,” Raven objected sleepily. “I don’t trust you not to molest me in my sleep.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t trust me.” He laughed humorlessly and rolled over onto his other side. “You can be the big spoon, just promise to keep your hands to yourself.”

She wanted to argue about it, to pick a fight but she was just too tired. “Fine. Whatever.” She shifted closer and, after a moment's hesitation, curled her arm around his waist. Her limbs felt heavy with fatigue but her mind was wide awake.  She rubbed her face against his back and inhaled his scent, “Mmm,” he just smelled so good.

While Raven seemed unaware that her fingers played with the trail of hair which lead down his shorts, Murphy definitely wasn’t. “Raven…” he warned softly.

Raven tugged on his shoulder until he ended up on his back, threw her good leg over him and straddled his hips. She was going to kiss him; he could see it in her eyes, and was going to let her. Both allowing themselves a couple of minutes to pretend.

Raven’s eyes moved between Murphy’s and must have found whatever she was searching for. With an expression painted with determination she leaned down to cover his mouth with hers.

Murphy pushed himself up onto his elbows and strained his neck to meet her halfway. Soft, searching kisses that left them wanting more. With each swipe of their lips they added a bit more pressure, each kiss lingering a bit longer.

Raven was supposed to be the experienced one, but she quickly found out that Murphy was a natural.  She slid the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open up for her.

“Raven, stop,” he groaned.

Gently he pushed at her shoulders, not hard enough to throw her off, just so she knew he was serious. Her gaze fixed on his slightly parted lips, but no matter how much she wanted to take advantage and deepen the kiss, she didn’t. But she wasn’t about to let it slide, either.

“You want me,” it wasn’t a question, she could feel the evidence of his desire between her thighs.

“Yes,” there was no use denying it. His breath came in jagged bouts of air, and the part of him ruled by his baser instincts wanted to stop talking and continue where they had left off.

“I want you, too,” she rolled her hips against his erection, eliciting another groan from him.

He knew she did, but there was something he couldn’t ignore. “You don’t want to,” he reminded her solemnly.

“I don’t care,” she leaned down to try and kiss him again.

He turned his face away from her tempting lips. “But _I_ do.” The smile was forced and didn’t reach his eyes.  “So why don’t you go back to hating me now instead of waiting until tomorrow.”

She couldn’t get away from him fast enough. She hissed, as if burned by his touch and rolled off him. Because of their predicament she couldn’t get very far and with a curse she slid deeper into the sleeping bag, doing what she could not to touch him.

Thirty minutes to an hour later and Raven was left with no choice but to surrender. With a scoff she shifted closer until they rested back to back.

Murphy’s guilt returned tenfold. The clothes he brought wouldn’t have protected much against the cold, but maybe she would have felt more in control if she hadn’t been naked, except for her underwear.

“I really do hate you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotions. But there was a small part deep inside of Raven that didn’t hate Murphy as much as she wanted to, and she didn’t know how to handle that.

Murphy wondered if those words would ever cease to hurt. “I know.”

The weather outside was quieting, but the storm in the tent raged on. Eventually Raven’s breathing slowed and evened out, she was asleep.

He turned off the lantern, leaving the tent in darkness and counted slowly to one hundred before turning around to face her and tenderly wrapping her in his arms. “Sweet dreams, Raven,” he murmured with his lips barely touching her temple.

Murphy stayed awake the whole night, his eyes never leaving Raven’s face. Even during the darkest hours and he couldn’t make out more than a hazy outline did he stop watching the sleeping girl in his arms. Every time she snuggled closer his heart thumped painfully against his chest.

When the sun rose Murphy was already dressed and ready to leave. He couldn’t stay and watch disgust cross her features when she realized how she had spent the night. He wouldn’t be returning to Camp Jaha. He was tired of always being met with mistrust and hatred. He needed to get away, at least for a little while.

Pressing his lips gently to hers, a tear slid down her cheek only to disappear in the corner of her lips. “May we meet again.”

 

***

 

The morning was well into noon by the time Raven woke up from her peaceful slumber. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned soundly. A frown replaced her sleepy smile when her hands smacked into something hard and heavy. Her lids fluttered and she opened her eyes to stare at the offending object. She had to blink several times to make her brain understand that what she was seeing was real.

Next to Murphy’s backpack, the very one she smacked into, was a pile of clothes. Anger, an emotion she gladly associated with him, sparked inside of her and she scrambled to her feet. It took her until the third sweep of the tent to realized that she truly was alone, and she had a feeling he wasn’t outside taking care of his needs.

Raven was surprised by the hurt she felt.

After getting dressed she packed and disassembled the tent trying not to think about why Murphy had left her with everything, even the walkie-talkie. But something told her he wouldn’t be at the camp waiting for her when she got back.

With the help of the thick tree branch which conveniently had fallen down just outside she started in the direction of the camp, clearly marked out in the shape of an arrow in the snow. With one last glance towards the footsteps heading the other way she whispered longingly, “May we meet again.”

 

 

 

 

 

Glossary:

_Tondc_ – (Washing)ton DC

_Sky People_ – People who were born in space

_Grounders_ – People who were born on earth

_Whiteout_ \-  a condition of heavily falling or blowing snow in which visibility is very poor.

_Jobi nuts_ – A edible nut that gives you visions when they “go bad”

_Go float yourself_ – Go fuck yourself/Go to hell (Origin: On the Arc all crimes were punishable by death. People were locked inside an airlock chamber and when they opened the hatch they were sucked, aka floated out)

_May we meet again_ – Is a kind of farewell that you use when you don’t think you’ll be seeing each other anytime soon, but are still hopeful. Also us


End file.
